


It's not a crush...

by justblaze



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Anxiety, Crushes, Het Sex, M/M, Minor Eric Bittle/Jack Zimmermann, for now anyway, minor Ransom/Holster, one-sided
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 03:07:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8311657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justblaze/pseuds/justblaze
Summary: It wasn’t a crush. It wasn’t. It was just pure professional respect and admiration, from one athlete to another. -- The obligatory Rans/Tater fic from the Tweets that were just released. Because someone had to write it!Deleting the second chapter because life got too busy for me to take this where I wanted to. It will have to stay a one shot :-/





	

It wasn’t a crush. It wasn’t. It was just pure professional respect and admiration, from one athlete to another. They all watched the Falconers religiously. Of course they did. It was Jack’s team. And Bitty was so on top of things. He and Jack were oddly good at keeping in touch. He kept bringing them all the Falconer’s behind-the-scenes stuff. He knew so much about everyone on the team. It was kind of amazing, honestly, how did he have time for his classes?

But Ransom didn’t have a crush on Tater, not really. It was just…

Okay, so it happened like this. Ransom had a quiz in chem and a paper due in English lit on the same day, with two of his hardest teachers. He was having a panic attack under the table and Holster was giving him encouraging pats while maintaining a steady conversation with some of the guys from the team. When Ransom finally came up from the table, Holster was distracted. Rans even tried to text March, but she didn’t answer. He knew she was busy all day, she was great at letting him know ahead of time when it would be radio silence so he wouldn’t spend the whole time freaking out. 

But then, Bitty had made them watch those cheesy “Meet the Falcs” videos on YouTube and he just kind of… imprinted on Tater. Like a fucking duck. He was huge for one thing. Ransom could just imagine being all wrapped up in Tater, how small he would feel. Tater could take care of him, hold him. God, he could probably pick him up. Mmm, there were distinct possibilities there. Thinking back, it was probably the moment where Alexei put his arm around Jack in the video. I mean Jack was big, but Alexei, he was huge. He also just seemed so comfortable. With himself and with everyone else. Not many people could put Jack at ease. It took Shitty a while to figure it out. But there Tater was, poking fun at Jack and being a good dude. 

And maybe it was the accent. Yes, definitely the accent. 

Okay, so here’s the thing. The first time Ransom jacked off to gay porn, it was Russian men fucking each other. Rans was attracted to women, definitely. But porn with women was so rough and seemed downright disrespectful. He would watch it and get hard and he could even get off, but somewhere in the back of his brain, he knew that the way women were treated wasn’t right. At 11, he had the genius idea to read one of his sociology professor mom’s books on sex and sexuality. He knew there was a chapter on porn and he thought, who knows, maybe he’d get some adult information about sex or maybe even tips on where to find porn. Instead, he learned that most porn dehumanizes women, teaches bad sex practices, and that real female orgasms are incredibly rare in mainstream porn. So when he discovered gay male porn, it was like a light coming on. Yeah, male porn actors were still acting, but both people were usually, observably enjoying themselves and that eased the guilt that constantly took Ransom out of the moment watching women in porn. 

And so yeah, he had some kind of pavlovian response where his dick got hard as soon as he heard a Russian accent. Sometimes he had to be careful watching thrillers because Russian henchmen would often show up and he would have to adjust himself carefully. One of the unexpected upsides of a rampant anxiety disorder was that no one in the Haus was all that surprised if Rans curled up in a ball or shifted positions restlessly on the couch. 

And maybe it was more than that. Maybe when March was too busy and Holster was out, maybe Ransom watched all the YouTube videos he could find of Alexei. Maybe he practiced saying his name and getting the accent right. Alexei. Alexei Mashkov. English speakers tended to say “Alek-say,” but Russians said it differently. Everything flowed together smoothly. Ransom still couldn’t quite get it right, but he was closer than most people. 

Maybe he felt like his heart was going to beat out of his fucking chest when they went to watch Jack’s first game. He had wondered how close he would get to Tater. They hadn’t talked at the time, but he’d probably go to another Falcs game, right? Would they ever talk? No, they couldn’t, right. Ransom honestly probably wouldn’t survive it. But he made sure to tell Jack to say hi to Tater for him. Maybe he’d notice Ransom. Maybe Alexei would see him and…

But Rans had March. That was all he needed. Right?


End file.
